


Impromptu Gift

by sku7314977



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Murder Husbands, Post Season 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6539467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sku7314977/pseuds/sku7314977
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will hadn't meant to buy anything when he stepped into the store...now he has to convince Hannibal to let him keep it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impromptu Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mads_Mikkelsen_Enthusiest](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mads_Mikkelsen_Enthusiest).



> My friend requested this as a tiny one shot and I did it up for her. Enjoy~<3
> 
> I own nothing.
> 
> Not beta read.

Will hadn’t meant to do it. When he’d stepped into the shop it had been with every intention of window shopping – looking and walking away. He’d seen the shop and felt nostalgic. It hadn’t been meant to be anything more. How could he do otherwise? It wouldn’t be right. Not with the lifestyle he and Hannibal led.

Will should be feeling guilty for his impulse but he isn’t. Unless it ends in blood he won’t, he’s excited.

Will pulls into the gravel driveway in front of the small cottage he and Hannibal have acquired as their home and find Hannibal tending the small garden that runs along it’s front. He rises from his puttering in greeting as his attention is caught by the rumble of their small discrete car.

The soft expression of welcome turns cool when Will exits the car. Pleasant thoughts of home grown vegetables and herbs set aside as his sight focuses on the purchase in Will’s arms, “Will?”

The ex-profiler smiles, feeling sheepish as he approaches his cannibal lover. He really should have called first. “Yes Hannibal?”

“What,” he slips off his gardening gloves, laying them on the stoop by their developing garden, “is that?”

He’d had every intention of looking and walking away, but his resolve had been broken the moment he’d stepped through the front door. The sales clerk on duty had put her in his arms before the overhead bell had stopped ringing and he was lost to the sweet smell of milk breath fuzzy warmth in a hot-second.

“A puppy.” His smile widens, long fingers combing soft golden fur. Barely nine-weeks old, she was the last of her litter.

“I can see that.” Hannibal looks at the small squirming bundle in Will’s arms like she might be a disease. “But why do you have it?”

“It”, not her. Will can already see this conversation ending with Will giving the puppy up to a better home. Maybe even bringing her back to the pet store or abandoning her with a shelter. He doesn’t want Hannibal using his silver tongue against him. He doesn’t want to take her back or abandon her. Will misses his dogs. He misses Winston and Buster and all his old family.

“I thought you might like a pet.” Will beings the game before his lover can, weaving lies with his own silver tongue.

“Oh?” Gravel crunches softly under rich leather loafers, pale brows raising with curiosity. “For me?” To Will’s surprise he takes the puppy from his arms, holds the fuzzy creature at arms length as he examines her. He hums, meets her eyes, “She is quite handsome.”

This is not at all the reaction Will was anticipating. “You…like her?”

“Of course,” his smile isn’t nearly so genuine, the fox playing the hen, “any gift from you should be honored and appreciated.” He brings the young pup against his chest, lets her nose at the fine wool of his shirt to leave wet marks against the fabric.

Will had thought he was in control of this conversation.

“I think I’ll name her Abby.” He had been very, very wrong.

“For Abigail.” Will knows instantly.

“But of course.” This is punishment. Will brought home a dog without calling him to discuss the growth of their household and thought to try and cover his mistake as a gift.

Will smothers his dismay, “You can’t pick a different name?”

 _Abby_ wants down, the attention span of a puppy not allowing for so much time tucked up in arms away from the ground. “Then the daughter we had meant to bring? I think Abigail would be honored.”

“This isn’t a stab at me for bringing home a dog?” He isn’t fooling anyone.

Hannibal feigns hurt, “Of course not.”

Will should have named the dog before handing her to him. “Fine. Abby.”

“I’m glad you agree.” His fingers move in slow circles behind the puppy’s ear, manicured nails offering scratches she presses back into. “I suppose I will need to make some fresh sausages now.”

“Oh?” Will quirks a brow, “In the mood?”

“Yes, but more importantly I will need them for training Abby. If I’m to take her hunting with me she will need to be trained, the sooner I start the better.”

Will should have known better than to give Hannibal a dog. “You are _not_ taking her hunting!”

His smile grew wide, “She is a gift to me is she not?” An unfairly valid argument, “I will train her as I see fit.”

Will inwardly groans. “Hannibal, you know I brought her home for me. She’s my dog.”

He lets the anxious puppy down and watches her dart away into the yard, “Not a gift for me?”

Will fights to urge to roll his eyes. “I think it’s obvious I lied so we would keep the dog.”

Hannibal doesn’t offer the same effort to hide his amusement. “Well, regardless of your deceitful intentions, Abby was gifted to me.” He kisses Will’s cheek, toxic and sweet, “She’s mine now.” A lesson not to be impulsive or lie? Will could flip a coin for it.

He doesn’t want the sweet smell of milk breath and high puppy yips to be replaced with rotten flesh and deadly growls. Will wants the innocence he’s taken home to last.

A sharp back brings hope to the ex-profiler, his attention turning to muddy paws and Hannibal’s pant leg, a dirty puppy looking for someone to play. She must have found a puddle. It makes Will smile.

“Though…” he steps away from the muddy pup, “perhaps we may negotiate a compromise.”

Will grins, at least she won’t be ripping out throats anytime soon.

OoOoO

END.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading~<3
> 
> Your kudos are playing with puppies, your comments are rolling in mud.


End file.
